


Snickerdoodles

by ownedbyacat



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ownedbyacat/pseuds/ownedbyacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ty is... baking?  Zane is happy to enjoy the fruits of Ty's labours. Hell, he might even share...<br/>Not completely safe for work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snickerdoodles

“It’s all sticking to my fingers!” Ty yelled at the phone he had blu-tacked to the kitchen cupboard at head height. It was as if his subconscious mind had known this experiment would end in disaster, but he was grateful. The phone would not have survived any other way.

”Calm down, honey. You need to use more flour,” his mother’s voice came from the speaker. “Did you use large eggs? Never mind. Just dip your hands into the flour, then rub them together over the bowl. Keep doing that until your hands are clean. Then mix the dough again. What was it you’re making, again?”

“Snickerdoodles,” Ty ground out while trying to follow his mother’s instructions. He was up to his wrists in cookie dough and the sickly smell of too much sugar and butter was making him feel queasy.  More than anything he wanted a glass of water – or even a stiff drink – but that would mean opening cupboard doors with dough-covered hands and leaving sticky fingerprints on the chrome taps. And there was just no way Ty could tolerate _more_ mess on top of the flour-dusted counters, the crunch of sugar under his feet and the sticky bowls and spoons that cluttered the worktop.

He had the snickerdoodles recipe taped up on the cupboard door next to his phone, but even though he’d followed the instructions to the letter, the results were not what they should have been. Wasn’t making cookies supposed to be easy? And how had he managed to have such a crazy idea in the first place?

“You were being nice,” his mother soothed, and Ty realised he’d spoken aloud.

“I was being stupid,” he grumbled, fingers finally free of the sticky mess. “Do I really have to put my hands back in there?”

“The dough won’t bite,” Mara said, reasonably. “You can use a spoon, but then the texture just won’t be the same. And you have extra washing up. Just get on with it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ty sighed and reached for the sticky dough once more.

~*~

If Zane hadn’t been so tired, he might have taken more note of the heavy scent of cinnamon that hung over their row house like a cloud. But he’d been in New York for most of the week helping out on a case of cyber fraud and had pulled all-nighters in an attempt to make it back home as quickly as possible. It hadn’t been much of a problem since he still didn’t sleep very well when Ty wasn’t close by. Though now that he was no longer focussed on finding patterns in reams of data, the exhaustion was weighing him down.

Zane had caught a taxi from the airport, glad that he didn’t have to fight his way through the Friday traffic, and was hoping to catch a nap before Ty came home from work.  He hadn’t expected to find the door unlocked, or to hear music and snatches of disconsolate mutterings when he stepped inside the house.

Worried now, and wondering what Ty had done to himself in his absence that would warrant him being home so early on a Friday afternoon, Zane kicked off his shoes and made his way towards the sounds. 

Ty sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, head in sticky hands and eyes on the oven door. No bandages or injuries were immediately apparent, but every inch of Ty’s muscular body spoke of defeat. Zane chuckled when he saw the t-shirt Ty wore with his grubby sweats. It was the one he’d bought in Chicago, the one that declared that _love is messy_.  The kitchen certainly was.  And so was Ty.

At first Zane was struck speechless at the sight. Then the idea that Ty had been baking – _baking!_ – made itself at home in his mind.  Hilarity bubbled up and over and he snorted in total disbelief.

“Ty? What the hell happened?”  Zane gestured at the array of dirty bowls and spoons, the overflowing trashcan and the cookie-laden plates that covered the counter, hob and windowsill. “Are you expecting company?”

“No,” Ty hung his head and rested his hands on his thighs. “First, I couldn’t get the dough right. It was all sticky. And then the cookies didn’t come out the way the recipe said they should, so I started over. But it’s no good.”

Ty held his hands out, looking so disappointed that comforting him jumped to the top of Zane’s priority list.

Almost.

The heady mix of sugar and cinnamon was penetrating Zane’s exhaustion. And the vision of Ty covered in sweet sticky mess… well.

“There _are_ cookies,” Zane disagreed, sinking his teeth into one of the snickerdoodles. “And they’re not half bad.” Actually, they were rather good with a nice crunchy edge and a chewy centre. Zane swallowed and looked back at Ty.

“Have you even tried one?”

“No. They’re wrong,” Ty replied sullenly. “The book says they should be dome shaped. _Dome shaped_ , Zane,” he waved at the various plates of snickerdoodles that littered the kitchen. “And these ones are all flat.”

“Doesn’t hurt the taste in the slightest,” Zane said and knelt beside Ty. “Here.” He leaned in for a soft kiss, his tongue sliding over Ty’s lower lip to share the taste. “See?”

Ty hummed and Zane choose to take that as encouragement. He swiped another snickerdoodle off a nearby plate and held it between his teeth while he leaned towards Ty again. His lover accepted the proffered treat and between them they devoured Ty’s creation until their lips met. Zane was glad he hadn’t grabbed a burger at the airport in New York. This was so much better.

Ty’s lips were warm and soft. Sweetness beckoned as their tongues tangled and the cinnamon added an edge of spice and a hint of mystery. Zane lost himself in the teasing kiss for the longest moment, simply glad to be home.

Eventually, the cinnamon taste faded and air grew sparse. Zane leaned back and reached for the next cookie to share when he caught a wisp of blue from the corner of his eye. “Something’s… burning?”

“Shit!”

Ty jumped up as if he’d been bitten and almost yanked the oven door off its hinges. Smoke billowed from inside along with the acrid smell of burnt cinnamon. Another batch of snickerdoodles ruined. Ty set the tray with the burnt cookies on the sink and went to open the window.

“Thank god I don’t have to make a living as a baker,” he groused as he turned back and surveyed the biohazard his normally so tidy kitchen had turned into.

“I don’t know,” Zane said, munching on yet another cookie. “You could give it a try. I hear that practice makes perfect.”

“Look who thinks he’s funny.”

“I was actually being serious,” Zane disagreed, still sitting on the kitchen floor.  Then he spotted the phone taped to the cupboard door next to pages of instructions and his grin grew wider.  “Whom did you call for help?”

Ty sighed. “The only ones who know how not to burn stuff are my ma and Kelly. And the Doc just told me to suck my fingers.”

“To which you offered a rude noise and slammed the phone down, no doubt,” Zane said, barely holding back the laughter.  Ty looking sheepish and sounding indignant while surrounded by sweet sticky dough and warm cinnamon cookies was almost more than Zane could bear.  “He was giving sound advice, you know,” he said and pulled Ty’s fingers and the last bowl of cookie dough closer. “Let me demonstrate.”

Before Ty could react or complain, Zane had swiped Ty’s hand through the cookie dough and sucked two fingers into his mouth.  It was a mistake. A bad one. Because Ty and cookie dough made an almost irresistible combination of flavours that needed to be explored at length and in great detail. And he had no idea if Ty would be on board with that.  Ty simply hated to fail at anything and maybe, after all his abortive attempts at bakery cookie dough – and the very thought that Zane was turned on by the idea of eating it off Ty’s abs – held nothing but revulsion for him.

Zane sucked gently on Ty’s fingers, pulling Ty within reach and wrapping an arm around his waist. Ty’s breath hitched as Zane traced his tongue over scarred knuckles and when he gently scraped his teeth over Ty’s fingertips, Ty leaned against him with a sigh.

A trace of salt on Ty’s skin brought out the sweetness of the snickerdoodle mix and Zane groaned at the decadent taste. It did all sorts of interesting things to his mind and his body firmly reminded him of what he’d been missing for most of a week.

His tongue teased the digits in his mouth and Zane relished the soft growl he managed to drag from Ty’s throat and the increased warmth as Ty leaned closer. He was totally unprepared, though, when Ty drew away and grabbed the bowl of cookie dough from the counter.

“Do you really mean to eat dinner standing in the kitchen?”

Ty’s voice was a low, gravelly purr that shot bolts of lightning down Zane’s spine. There was no hint of defeat in Ty now. His lover’s eyes were dark with lust and desire rolled off him in waves, heating Zane’s blood to a boil. If a simple caress could produce such a reaction, he’d suck Ty’s fingers every chance he got. First, though, Zane needed to get himself together enough to answer Ty’s question.

“Now that you mention it,” he drawled, “I should make an effort at being civilised and dine off a flat surface.” He stepped close and slid his hand under Ty’s t-shirt, tracing the defined abs. “Or as close to a flat surface as I can get.”

Ty answered with a short, hard kiss, the bowl holding the cookie dough cradled between their bodies. “Only if you do the laundry tomorrow.”


End file.
